America's 56 Children
by wolfdancer91
Summary: Guess who has to fill in for America when she's sick? One of her 56 crazy children! A series of inter-connected one-shots about her kids, adopted and BIOLOGICAL! Who is the father? Who are they? Why hasn't this summary ended yet? Warnings: fem!America, slash, romance, heavy accents, my sharp tongue, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**This is sort of a pet project I'm doing for fun. It might not get updated as often as _Arda in Need_, but I'll try to keep up with it. Oh, yeah! Credit goes to my friend Bela for the brilliant ideas involving Russia and Belarus!**

Texas checked her appearance in the mirror before she entered the conference room. She looked like herself in the worn jeans, scuffed boots, rumpled white shirt with her bomber thrown over it, gun and rope coil at her hips, her cowlick (the Panhandle) sticking straight up out of her blonde bangs. She took a deep breath and pushed open the doors to reveal that no one else was there yet.

That was a relief. She could adjust to her surroundings before everyone showed up. Texas settled herself in her mother's chair after draping her jacket over the back and dropping her hat on the table. The wings and star decorating the back were fully visible from the door, signaling that this wasn't America but someone different.

She turned when the doors opened with a soft whoosh, "G-good mornin'."

"Guten morgen," Prussia grinned at her, "Avalon B. Jones."

"Gilbert Beilschmidt," Texas beamed, "It's always good to see ya!" She leapt up and hugged him, "How've you been? You haven't visited since Jacques's statehood celebration!"

"Ich bin wundervoll, mein freund (I am wonderful, my friend)," he winked, "Ze awesome me does miss spending time vith you nuts."

"Aw, I feel loved and I'm sure my momma, aunts and siblings can feel the waves of pure emotion flowin' off of ya," Prussia threw his head back as he laughed uproariously.

"Kesesesesesesesese!"

"Honestly, Prussia, show some decorum," a stuffy Austria sniffed as he entered the room.

"Yea, Gil," Texas's eyes sparkled, "Listen to the stuck up aristocrat."

"Stuck up?" Austria squawked indignantly while the other two laughed.

"Ah, ignore Ava, Little Master. She takes after Abby," Prussia offered his old 'friend' a smirk and pushed her forward, "Austria, meet Avalon B. Jones, zhe physical manifestation of Texas. She's cool but not as awesome as me!"

"Thank you, Prussia," he said dryly and shook Texas's hand, "A pleasure. My human name is Roderich Edelstein."

"Nice to meet ya, sir."

"A pleasure," his dark eyes softened as he realized just how nervous she was, "Relax. If you tense up, the vultures here will pounce all over you."

"Thank you," she murmured.

"I must confess myself to be curious. How do the states exist? And how exactly do you know about this, Prussia?" Austria fixed him with a deadly glare.

"Well, Mister Austria," she began, "When a mommy nation and a daddy nation-or two daddy nations-love each other VVVVEEEERRRRRRRRYYYY much, or when they're RRRREEEEAAAALLLLLLLLYYYY wasted, they do certain-"

"I know that!" His face was on fire, "So you-"

"I'm actually America's daughter by birth. I have two blood-related brothers and fifty-three adopted siblings."

"Good lord. No wonder America is insane."

"Yep. And three of them kids are his," Texas pointed at Prussia with a smirk, "But I think he wishes that they were by-"

"AVA!" The albino ex-nation blushed furiously, "Bitte (Please)!"

"You have children?" Austria turned to stare at Prussia, who nodded mutely and pulled out his wallet, handing over three photos. Austria glanced over the three pictures: one of a boy with silver hair and two blonde girls and Prussia, one of the boy with a robin perched in his hair and a familiar grin on his face, one of both girls with shy smiles on their faces. All three had their father's brilliant, burgundy colored eyes.

"Jacques, Lucy und Juliet," the rather proud father pointed each out, his chest swelling as he beamed, "Zey're zhe most awesome kids ever! It was sure a surprise when Mathilde called me und told me I vas a Vati but I love meine kleinen (my little ones)."

Austria just stared at him blankly. Texas poked the shocked man, "I think we broke 'im."

"Ja," Prussia winced as a look of pure rage settled upon Austria's features, "But not for long."

"Gilbert Beilschmidt," he hissed out in that silent anger only enraged mothers and wives/submissive partners are capable of, " Was zur Hölle haben sie denken, sie törichte esel (What the hell were you thinking, you idiotic ass)?"

" Ich war betrunken und einsam! Ausser, ich werde es niemals bereuen! Meine kinder waren es wert (I was drunk and lonely! Besides, I'll never regret it! My children were worth it)!"

"Wie kann man das selbst (How could you do this to yourself)?"

" Gut, mir verzeihen, wenn ich versuche zu vergessen die Tatsache, dass die Person, die ich wirklich wollte war verheiratet, und das anheben Italien! Ich war weh wie die Hölle! Nicht, dass sie nicht bemerkt, bastard (Well, forgive me for trying to forget the fact that the person I really wanted was married and raising Italy! I was hurting like hell! Not that you noticed, bastard)!"

"Ich glaube nicht das ist der ort fur dieses gesprach (I don't think this is the place for this conversation)..." I winced at their expressions, "Nevermind."

A brunette with brilliant red highlights burst in, "Oirlan' 'as arrived!" Then she saw the face off, "Waaat de 'ell's 'eadin' on?"

"NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" The two turned to yell at her.

"Gran' so den," she shrugged and turned to Texas, "Who're yer? Catherine Malloy, Oirland."

"Texas," she shrugged, "Momma asked me to sit in for her. I'll tell the whole story once the meetin' starts."

"Yer shud do somethin' really dramatic," her green eyes sparkled mischievously.

"What do ya have in mind?" The fighting couple even turned to listen when they heard our evil laughter as Ireland began to describe her plan.

The meeting was chaos, as always. Several nations, France and England especially, were screaming at each other already, Italy was bothering Romano, Austria and Prussia were sending glares at each other when their eyes met and longing glances when one was looking way, Hungary was smirking at the two, Ireland was cackling evilly from her seat by Scotland, and Germany was near beating his head on the table.

England stopped his argument long enough to ask, "Where the bloody hell is America?"

Then the doors went flying of their hinges as the figure behind them lowered their leg with an obnoxious, familiar laugh, "Eli was right! That was freakin' fun!"

"Who are you?" Germany stood as the figure-now revealed to be a girl in maybe her late teens or early twenties-sauntered in.

"Avalon Britannia Jones, personification of Texas," England stiffened in shock while she pulled off her sunglasses to reveal her eyes. One was sky blue, the other acid green, "Momma sent me to take 'er place while she recovered. Charlotte-Wyoming-has her grounded 'till she's over her cold."

"Zhe states are personified?"

"Yep," England was now openly gaping at her along with half the table, "What?"

"This is, like, totally insane," Poland spoke up.

"Oh. I guess y'all think y'all're gonna get swarmed with lots of mini-Mommas. Don't worry. Not all of us're actually her kids. Fifty-three are 'dopted."

"Fifty-three?" Germany's eyebrows shot up.

"Yep. Most've 'em came from those two morons," she pointed at France and Spain, "Mostly the man-whore, though. Spain just had Mexico, who had a few of the Southwestern kids, and Florida," she shrugged, "A lot of my siblin's were just found wanderin' around."

" Elle doit être l'un de l'Amérique les enfants biologiques. Elle ressemble à Abigail trop pour ne pas être. Mais qui est son père (She must be one of America's biological children. She resembles Abigail too much not to be. But who is her father)..." France mused aloud.

"Il n'est pas de vos affaires, Grenouille (It is none of your business, Frog)," Texas replied sharply, eyes cold as he gasped in realization and laughed, "Shut the hell up!"

'I wish I was in Dixie,

Hoo-ray, hoo-ray

In Dixie-town I'll settle-'

Texas yanked out her cell, "Yeah, Annie?... Tell Momma that I'm just fine... No, they're too shocked... Alright... It's all good... VIRGINIA! I AM NOT DOIN' THAT! I'll see y'all when I get home!... Bye!" She ended the call, "Older sisters! Meddlers, the lot of 'em!"

"You will become one with Russia, da?" He appeared out of nowhere beside her.

"HOLY SHIT!" She punched him in the face, knocking him out, "Damn that man! He shoulda known better!"

"YOU HURT BROTHER!" Belarus flew at her and Texas yanked out her gun and shot, knocking the psycho of course for a few moments so she could lasso Belarus with ease, "MUST KILL!"

"Oh, shut up," Texas pounced and had Belarus hog-tied in a second. She sat in America's usual seat by England, "Can we please get this over with now?"

Everyone sat down quickly, listening to the state out of awe, respect and slight fear. Germany's face was blank and his jaw was a little slack as he stared at her. She winked at him before pulling some papers out, "Momma sent some good ides for how to deal with the economy issues-"

"What I don't understand," England addressed Texas after the conference was over, not noticing the awed and slightly freaked out look she gave him, "Is why America never presents plans like this normally."

"'Cause she's always exhausted," Texas snorted back, a defiant gleam coming to her eyes, "She's raisin' fifty-six kids as a single mom, spoilin' her grandbaby, runnin' her country, and comes to these things. By the time she gets to the conferences, she's so out of it she just spouts off whatever comes to mind. Y'all're lucky she never just collapsed."

His face fell, "I can't believe I never noticed..." England took off, "Good-bye, Texas! I need to do something!"

'Idiot,' Texas thought affectionately, 'What does Momma see in ya? Obviously enough to lead to me, Davy and Lucas.'

"You did very vell today," she turned to look at Germany, who offered a shy and slightly awkward smile.

"Danke," she grinned back, "It was kinda fun."

"Vhen you kicked open zhe door, you mentioned an 'Eli'-"

"An old friend. Ever heard of Eliot Ness?"

"No."

"He was the detective who helped take down Al Capone and a couple of other mob bosses back in the Fifties," she shrugged, "I went up to visit Illinois-ya might wanna talk to your brother about her, by the way-and ended up helping out. He always said the best part of the raid was kicking the door in."

He laughed, "Zhat is insane!"

"You have no idea," Texas's mismatched eyes sparkled with mischief, "I've got other stories, if ya want. We could trade over lunch?"

"Sure," Germany shrugged, "Vhy not?"


	2. Chapter 2

Alaska, Mikhail I. Braginski-Jones, was a very timid and shy boy. It came from living under Russia for so long until he was rescued by America. He was most definitely a Mama's boy from that point on.

He was also the best friend of one Kailolu A. Jones, also known as Hawaii, over whom he was extremely overprotective but not in a creepy way like his birth father.

So when she scraped up her leg (the unscarred one) attempting to skateboard, of course he burst into the World Meeting with her in his arms screaming for their mother.

"MAMA!" Every nation jumped and the three Baltics cried out in pure fear when a tenish, black-haired version of Russia burst through the doors, "Kai-Kai's hurt!"

"Mikey, I'm fine!" She pouted as he carried her over to America. She was maybe ten as well, with large brown eyes and thick black hair in a pixie cut.

"Bring her over here, Mikey," America smiled warmly at the two and set the girl on the table before her, "Get the first-aid kit for me?"

"Yes, Mama," he scrambled to do as she asked while America checked over the little girl's leg.

"Hawaii, how did you manage this one?" She ruffled her child's hair affectionately.

"I tried skateboarding but then Bailey's kitty got in the way so I turned too fast and fell."

"Kai-Kai," she shook her head fondly as Alaska handed her the kit, "You and your sports."

"It was so great, Makuahine," she beamed, "I did really great before that, though! 'Jandro was really impressed!"

"That's great, Kai," America gently cleaned the scrape using an anti-septic pad from the kit, then pressed a bandage over the wound and kissed it to Hawaii's childish delight. England was staring at the two, his green eyes far, far away as his imagination ran wild.

"Angla-" France started to say, then stopped as he realized the nation was completely out of it. He chuckled warmly and pushed England out of his chair towards the two. Sadly, England was so out of it he fell on the ground.

"Mister, that was mean!" Hawaii yelled at France.

"Iggy, are you alright?" America helped him up and checked him over as gently as she had checked over her daughter.

"I'm fine," he blushed, "Thank you."

"Do you need Makuahine to make you better, too?" She inched over and pointed to the spot beside her, "You can sit by me."

"I'm-" a scream cut off his words and Alaska dove behind him, clinging to England's legs, "What the-"

"Arthur!" America cut him off with a glare before kneeling down, "Mikey?"

"He's here!" The boy sobbed into England's legs, "Don't let him take me!"

She sighed and turned to the tall, purple-eyed nation who had been approaching, fixing him with a poisonous glare, "Russia, leave Mikhail alone. Haven't you done enough to him?"

"He vill become one with Russia once more, da?"

Alaska screamed again and hid under the table instead of behind England's legs, "Nononononononononononononono!"

"Get the hell out of here, Russia, or else! I swear to God I WILL shoot you!" Her eyes blazed, "International relations be damned!" Russia snarled at her but she stood firm, "Remember my little girl? Ava? What she did to you is child's play compared to what I'll do if you come near Mikhail, you sonuvabitch," he took a step closer to her.

"Get the bloody hell away from them, you psychopath," England stepped up, much to everyone's surprise, a violent expression on his face. One that was almost as terrifying as Belarus, "Or I will go Black on your disgusting arse!"

"He vill-" England flew at the man, using the fighting skills he had developed as a pirate so long ago, easily pulverizing the larger man in his midnight fury at seeing an innocent child threatened so blatantly before his eyes.

The boy's mother definitely had nothing to do with it. Not at all.

"Iggy!" America pulled him off Russia, "Stop! Ukraine, get him the hell outta here before Iggy or I kill 'im!"

She nodded and dragged her brother out with Estonia's help, Belarus trailing behind. America instantly knelt down to try to coax Alaska out from under the table with little success, "C'mon, sweetie, he's gone now."

"He might come back," the terrified murmur nearly broke every heart in the room.

England, proud England, actually knelt down beside America, "Hello, there. What's your name, little one?"

"M-Mikhail."

"I'm Arthur."

"Y-y-you kept h-h-him from g-g-getting me."

"Of course. I couldn't let him hurt you or your mother," England's voice was soft and gently and comforting, "Do you think you could come out now that Russia's gone?"

"W-w-what if h-h-he c-c-c-comes back?"

"I'll go pirate on him again. I won't him hurt you, lad."

"W-w-what about Mama and Kai?"

"I'll protect them, too, though your mama doesn't really need it," England's eyes sparkled, "I promise you, Mikhail, if it was up to me nothing would ever hurt you, them or any of your family ever again," Alaska took the offered hand and crawled out. He took shelter in England's lap, curling into the man and resting his head on the man's chest, "Such a brave young man."

America ran a hand through her son's hair while Hawaii scrambled down to hug her best friend/brother.

Hungary was busy snapping away pictures, the other female nations were cooing (even Ireland, who was not very fond of her brother most of the time), the males were plotting how to destroy Russia, and Japan was freaking out.

The scar on Hawaii's leg was rather obvious, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Patrick S. Jones was absolutely frantic, though you couldn't tell by looking at him. Maine still used the blank expression he had learnt from his Native American grandfather so long ago, back when he was a child of the Abenaki people, born of a white trapper and a native woman.

Anyway, Maine had been charged with looking after the youngest members of their rather dysfunctional family for the day. He had left Alaska and Hawaii outside, believing they were old enough to be left alone, while he put the little ones down for a nap. By the time he got outside, they were gone.

He had called Pennsylvania, his calmest older brother, who dropped everything so Maine could go search. Thank God for the one level head in the Thirteen.

The first place he went, of course, was to the World Meeting to tell his mother. Oh, this was going to suck.

Maine crept into the room timidly. Yes, he is man enough to admit that America angry is holy mother effin' terrifying, enough to make a chicken like Italy wet his pants if he even paid witness to Abigail 'Fuck, Yeah' Jones on a warpath. Hehe. That might be kind of funny...

Thankfully, Hawaii and Alaska were already there and he let out a soft sigh of relief. A few nations turned to stare and take in the tall, wiry, dark-skinned youth with calm brown eyes and a loose M*A*S*H t-shirt. Hawkeye Pierce was awesome and from his state, after all. He ignored them in favor of the little brother currently curled up in England's lap with fresh tear tracks running down his face.

"Patty!" Hawaii came running up and hugged his legs, "You're here! I'm sorry we left but I fell and hurt my knee and Mikey freaked and brought us to Makuahine."

"Heya Kai," he smiled down at her demurely, patting her head affectionately, "Glad to see you're okay."

"Patrick," America said, her hands on her hips, in that firm voice that just screamed 'you-are-in-so-much-trouble-young-man', "How exactly did Mikey and Kai manage to get here without you noticing?"

"I went inside for two minutes to put the little ones down," he winced, hunching his shoulders under The Look, "Luke was kinda being difficult about going to sleep. By the time I got back outside, those two were gone. I called Asher then came straight here to tell you."

Her eyes softened, "Ah. It was one of those days?"

"Yep."

"Well, it could've been worse. Like the time a certain crimson-eyed menace babysat!"

"Hey! Zhat vas two hundred years ago und it vas the original thirteen! Zhose kids vere demons vhen zhey vere little!" His entire face was beet red and several nations snickered, with Austria and Hungary being the loudest.

"Those triplets of yours were little hellions, Prussia," Mexico spoke up, "I had to watch them when you were forced to work."

"Mein kleinen vere little angels-"

"Sweet, yes. Angels, hell no!" America burst out, "Jacques is a mini-you! He was like a tornado! WHOOSH! CRASH! 'SORRY, MOMMY!' I love that kid, but he broke more stuff than Davy did!" Everyone who knew the states, including Lithuania, let out a snort of laughter as they remembered how clumsy DC was.

"Vell," he chuckled with a fond smile, a SMILE not a SMIRK, "He vas a litte vhirlvind... Und zhey are very violent vhen zhey play hockey," sigh, "Even zhe awesome me has to admit zhey are vild."

"Nothing beats the 1996 Incident," Maine added softly, with a wicked grin, "Ava still won't go near Louis when he has the books out."

"Don't remind me!" She growled, her right eye twitching, "Do you know how awful that was? I must've had at least five heart attacks!"

England looked up from Alaska's messy black hair as the boy slept against his chest, "America, Mikhail's asleep."

"Poor little guy," she knelt back down and kissed her son's head, "He's terrified of Russia. Thanks, Iggy."

"It wasn't a problem."

"I better get him home."

"I've got him," England stood, Alaska easily balanced in his arms, "Let's go."

"Kai, Patrick, you can stay if you like," she lead him out.

"Okay, Mama," he sat down as they left, "Thank God."

"I know you!" Hawaii pointed at Japan, " You taught me a long time agao! And you were at Pearl Harbor!"

His face paled and he shrunk, "私はそれほど非常にすまなく思っています (I am so very sorry)"

"It's okay, Japan-sensei," she climbed into his lap, "I'm not mad. You're still part of my ohana."

He turned bright red and Ireland cooed, "So cute!"

Germany just rolled his eyes and pulled out his buzzing cell phone, "Obviously ve von't be getting anything done until zhey get back."

"Veee~ Pasta~" Italy pulled out a random, huge bowl out of nowhere.

"Pass some over here?" Maine asked.

"Ah! Another pasta lover!"


	4. Chapter 4

Louis Alexandre Francis 'Louisiana' Bonnefoy-Jones was a Creole and he was proud of it. He was a smooth-talker, a lover of fine wine, an expert in the art of love making. He was handsome in an extremely flamboyant way, in his neat silk shirts and top hat that rested over silky smooth black looks. Louis was, in his eyes, a gift to mankind everywhere.

His sister and neighbor, Texas, called him a pervert with an ego only slightly smaller than his birth father's. She also refused to come near him when he attempted voodoo after the 1996 Incident.

Time travel was not a pleasant experience, especially not when you ended up meeting the former avatar of your land. But that's a story for another time.

Anyway, Louisiana finally decided to drop off his monthly report. Two weeks late. In the middle of a world meeting.

Current state interuptions: 3/3

Number of meetings that actually got anything done after: 0/3

"Bonjour, Maman!" He swept in, his trench coat sweeping around his legs, "I have brought the report you wished for!"

America's head literally hit the table, "Great. Two weeks late, that's surprisingly early for you."

"Maman, this gorgeous face should not be kept locked away from the world doing paperwork!" He looked scandalized at the very thought.

"Okay, okay. I get it, Louis," she rolled her eyes fondly.

"Mon fils!" France glomped him and cooed, "Mon petit garçon."

"Papa!" The two began to chat away in easy French.

England's mouth fell open in complete horror, "There's two of them."

"Yes, Iggy," America lifted her head for a few minutes, "And he's as much of a man-whore as his father. I tried so hard when he was growing up but it's just hereditary."

"Maman!" Louisiana looked scandalized.

"How many people have you screwed in the last week? I love you, baby, but you go through so many partners that it's the only way to describe you."

"Fine," he stuck his nose in the air, "Perhaps I do go through several partners a week but zhere is so much Louis to go around!"

"And that is exactly why Ava calls you the 'Frog Clone'," she shook her head with another fond smile, "Oh, Louis."

"Maman," he pouted.

"Je vous aime, mon Coeur Disjoncteur (I love you, my Heart Breaker)," she smiled at him gently. He beamed and went back to talking with France.

Now, while all this was happening, many of the other nations had either broken down crying at the thought of another pervert while several others stared into space. Germany just let out a groan, not really affected by Louisiana's existence, and pulled out his phone like he had done during the last meeting.

There was no point to continue now that everyone was broken or, in America's case, comforting the man she held repressed feelings for.

'Can't zhey just admit how zhey feel for each ozzer and move on?' Germany lifted his eyes to heaven, 'Between zhem and Bruder, I vill go insane!'


	5. Chapter 5

**Yeah, this is the ;ast chap 'till I get back from vacation. It might be awhile. Sorry! Please don't kill me! *runs and hides behind Germany***

Austria walked into Germany's house, a stack of papers in his arms. He had to talk to Germany about some important business, but the only person in the living room was Prussia, "Guten tag, Prussia."

He turned to face Austria, his teenaged face wearing a confused expression, "Huh?"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" He blushed, "You are Michigan, correct?"

"That's the awesome me," the boy grinned, "Jacques Matthieu Williams-Beilschmidt-Jones. And this is Jackbird. He's awesome, too," he pointed to the little robin asleep on his shoulder, "You're Austria, right?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm," he tilted his head to the side, "Cool. You looking for Onkel? 'Cause he's not here right now. But my totally awesome Vati is in the kitchen. C'mon."

He followed the Prussia clone into Germany's extremely clean kitchen, where Prussia was tenderly cleaning a long gash on a girl's leg while another girl, nearly identical to the first save the scars on her arms and legs, hovered, "You von't need stitches zis time, Julie, but you three have to be more careful vhen you play hockey. One of you could get seriously hurt next time."

"Ja, Vati," she murmured as he wrapped a bandage around her cut.

"Ich liebe dich (I love you)," he pressed a kiss to her forehead and hugged his other daughter, "Beide von ihnen. Jacques, zu (Both of you. Jacques, too)."

"Love you, too, Vati," Michigan hopped up on the counter by his sisters, "Feeling better, Julie?"

"Oui," she murmured.

"Awesome!"

"I see what America was speaking of."

"Aw, Roddy," Prussia pouted, "Leave the kids alone!"

"Hi," the scarred girl grinned, "My name's Lucy. I'm Illinois. Are you really Austria? 'Cause if you are that's so cool. Vati talks 'bout you a lot and we've wanted to meet you for a while now. This is so awesome!"

"Ah…"He just stared at her.

"Lucy, breathe," Prussia shook his head fondly, "The shy one here is my little Birdie, Juliet."

"Indiana," her eyes were timid.

"C'mon, Jules, say some more," Jacques encouraged gently, "I know you don't like to but you have to be more confident."

She gulped, "I like to play the violin."

"So do I," Austria smiled at her, speaking gently, "But I prefer the piano."

"R-really?"

"Yes. Who is your favorite composer?"

"I like Beethoven, Mozart and Tchaikovsky a lot. I play lots of modern stuff and folk songs, too."

"You have a broad range of interests."

"Why stick to just one type? It's boring if you don't have some variety."

"Hm. That's a very good point."

"Who's your favorite?"

"I do not have one," he finally noticed the stunned and delighted expressions on the other three's faces, "What?"

"Nothing!" Prussia leapt in, "It is just nice to vatch you two bond over music."

"Mr. Austria?" Indiana asked timidly, "Would you like to play with me? Onkel keeps instruments here for me to use."

"I would love to," he smiled gently.

Austria stopped playing as the last notes faded, smiling at the young girl next to him. She only looked to be seventeen but acted so much older. Her eyes were shut, hiding the beautiful burgundy eyes she had inherited from her father, as she guided the bow across the strings one last time.

"You play very well."

"Thanks, Mr. Austria," her face lit up at the compliment.

"Hey," Prussia stood in the doorway, "Dinnertime."

"I better-"

"You can stay if you vant," those red eyes pleaded, "Bitte?"

"Fine. I will," Austria smiled softly.

"I'll go set the table!" She ran out.

"Danke, Roderich," Prussia sat down on the bench by Austria, "Danke. Sie hat nie viel gesprochen an niemanden außerhalb der Familie. Sie spricht kaum adoptiv geschwister um Gottes willen! Vielen, vielen Dank, Roderich(Thank you. She has never talked this much to anyone outside of the family. She barely talks to her adoptive siblings for God's sake! Thank you so much, Roderich!)!"

"Sie sind uns herzlich willkommen, Gilbert (You're welcome, Gilbert)," he blinked at the odd expression on Prussia's face, "Sind sie gut (Are you well)?"

"Ich habe gesehen, wie man die bekommt durch (I should've known you'd be the one to get through)," the expression on his face was different than any Austria had ever seen on him before. Humble, quiet, awed, "Danke."

"Gilbert-" he was cut off by a gentle kiss, one that conveyed so much.

"Ich liebe dich Sie sind unglaublich. War immer so, wird e simmer sein (I love you. You're amazing. Always have been, always will be)," Gilbert murmured against his lips. Austria just let out a soft sigh.

"Ich liebe dich, auch (I love you, too)."

"Vati! Dinner's ready so stop molesting Mr. Austria," Michigan yelled up the stairs.

The two blushed and Prussia yelled, "JACQUES!"

"Sorry!"

Austria laughed and grabbed his new lover's hand, "Let's go eat."

Poor Austria had no idea what he was getting himself into.


End file.
